


Pandemonium’s Box

by liyussi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Dystopia, Explicit Sexual Content, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Slavery, Violence, ill add more as the story goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liyussi/pseuds/liyussi
Summary: Minseok is one of many unfortunate humans in a world full of artificials. His only purpose is to please and perform—that is, until one day an anomaly appeared.





	Pandemonium’s Box

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mentions of physical and sexual abuse, sexual predatory behavior towards a minor, violence

"In exactly two minutes, the doors to this box will open for these starving lions to feast on their first meal in days. It's up to our ace here to remove his binds and escape from the pit before he becomes food. Will he succeed? We don't know! That's for our precious audience to find out!" The circus master announced while the viewers gasped. Minseok pulled at his binds once more. A part of it was to play things up for the audience, but another was him truly testing his leeway. This wasn't his first time performing this trick, but he certainly hadn't done it enough to perfect it quite yet.

A bell went off, signaling the start of the 16 year old boy’s two minutes. He heard the crowd get louder—some were screaming, some were cheering—and he began to writhe. He twisted his body this way and that, yanking so hard he was sure his shoulders were going to pop out. He slammed his body against the side of the clear box he was in, causing screams from the stands. He braced himself against the wall and grit his teeth as he pulled his left hand as hard as he could. He let out a shout of agony just before he managed to slip his hand out from the chains that had been around his wrist.

With it loose, Minseok managed to shake off the binds on his right hand too—but he still had so much more to go.

"We've reached the first half-minute mark, ladies and gentlemen—will he make it?" The ringmaster goaded the viewers on, raising the levels of anxiety. Minseok had just managed to wriggle his arm from the first loop of rope tied all over him and began following its length around his body and undoing the binds and tangles until he could finally use his hands freely.

The chains were easier to handle than the ropes. Once he had gotten the first part free, the rest began to slowly undo itself as Minseok moved. The first thing he did was remove his blindfold, the ringmaster yelling he had one minute left.

He saw the people—the grotesque mix of robot parts that they were—staring at him with muted horror and barely contained glee. Then he saw the lions, their bald maws foaming with discolored saliva circling around his box. He went to work frantically undoing the rest of the rope, twisting his limbs and body to get the rest of his binds off.

"45 Seconds!"

Minseok bent down, tugging at the confusing knots on his ankles. One of the lions lunged forward, attacking the box Minseok was in and startled not only the audience, but Minseok as well. He fell over, barely catching himself before his face hit the floor.

"30 seconds!"

The lions continued to bite and scratch at the box, desperately trying to get at the morsel inside. Sweat began to bead at Minseok's temple. The knots around his ankles were extra tight and he had no hope of getting them undone at this rate. He grabbed at the loop with his fingers and pulled, trying to create room that would allow his feet free. He grunted as he tugged, trying to get at least one out.

"10 seconds!"

Minseok let out a loud shout as he managed to force his foot free. He grabbed the rope on the other and began to pull frantically.

"Five!"

Minseok bit his bottom lip, his neck straining and turning red.

"Four!"

He nearly rolled backwards from how hard he had been yanking—but he was free. He'd managed to get both of his feet free.

"Three!"

Minseok scrambled up, his hands against the clear walls of the box, his expression panicked.

"Two!"

He patted around his confines, concentrating particularly on the ceiling side, searching for a switch that would let him out.

"One!"

Minseok slammed his hands against the wall. In terror, he called out as a last ditch attempt.

"Wait—wait!"

"Zero!" The ringmaster called out as the doors to the container opened.

The lions descended, Minseok's screams shrill in the circus tent. The audience screamed accordingly, their shock and utter disbelief drowning out Minseok's voice. They stared on in horror as the large lions crowded the insides of the box, devouring the human in the center.

The center of the stage clicked and began to descend, bringing the box and the lions down with it before the gap closed off, taking away the feasting beasts and sparing the viewers from seeing the remains.

"Such a shame he didn't manage to escape..." The compere said forlornly as he moved back to the now empty stage, a frown upon his face. "It's unfortunate we couldn't show you the performance you lovely people deserve to see."

The crowd only watched silently—too shocked to say anything. Undeterred, the circus master raised his arms, a giant smile returning to his face.

"No need to worry though—he can always do better next time, right ladies and gents?"

Before anyone could react to his odd statement, the master pulled a long cape out from seemingly nowhere and wrapped it around himself right. When he unraveled the cloth and threw it to the side, one of his arms was wrapped securely around a familiar human's shoulders. He had marks on his skin where the ropes and chains had dug too hard and bruised the flesh, but there Minseok stood, relatively unharmed.

The crowd cheered, baffled how the human had managed such a terrifying feat. They were almost certain he had died after all. The ringmaster bowed, satisfaction at his human's flawless stunt clear on his face. Minseok bowed too, his expression unchanging.

At the end of the show, when Minseok and the rest of the humans finished clearing the performance tent, the black haired boy holed himself off in a corner by boxes and storage crates as he painstakingly peeled his shirt from his body. He gingerly pressed his fingers against his shoulder blade and hissed. He stared at the digits, the tips wet with blood.

One of the lions had managed to take a swipe at him when the latch below him opened to the underside of the stage to allow his escape. He had pressed the switch a fraction of a second too late and had nearly lost his head for it. He wet the end of his shirt with a water bottle and pressed it against his wound, trying to cool the heat of the open flesh.

"Minseok! Where is Minseok?" He heard the master calling for him, the responses from his fellow humans just murmured confusion. Minseok jumped up from the spot he had been hiding in and quickly moved to appear in front of his master. The plastic man didn't look pleased at having to wait, but he didn't say anything to scold the young boy.

"Good job in fooling them today too. Even if we all rely on today's top technology, even the smartest few would still be amazed by your trick—and those below them might still have a hard time figuring out how you did it." The man said, his cold hand descending down to pat Minseok on the shoulder. Without his gloves on, it was easy to feel the unnaturally smooth and hard texture of his limb. "Make sure you keep up the good work, alright?"

"Yes master." Minseok said quietly, head turned downward. He briefly wondered if he should mention the injury to his shoulder, but he quickly decided against it when he remembered what happened to poor Soojeong. It would be better to sneak bandages later and have someone tend to it in the middle of the night.

Before he could excuse himself though, the hand on his shoulder tightened. Minseok felt himself go cold.

"By the way—the lions got to you, didn't they?" The master asked. Minseok gulped and hesitated, but he couldn't lie. He nodded his head slowly. "You know it's important to tell me those kinds of things right? You know how I feel about damaged goods, don't you?"

Minseok nodded again.

"What would become of my show if you were to suddenly collapse? Or if you were too weak to perform correctly and you really died? Do you need to be reminded, Minseok?"

"N-No, master." Minseok replied shakily, eyes wide with muted fear and pleading for mercy.

"Then would you mind explaining to me why it didn't occur to you to tell me?" The man prompted.

In his head, Minseok wished he could say because he knew—they all knew—about the notorious acts he would do to the humans in his troupe. Minseok had never experienced it himself, but he had heard the stories. Whether they were starving, injured, or otherwise uncomfortable, their master would invite them to his private tent. Some of them would return—quiet, bruised, and broken. Some would never return to the troupe again and the next day a box would be shipped out.

Their master saw them as dirty inferiors—and though he denied the questions equating them to animals, it wasn't as if higher forms that whipped, abused, or fucked animals didn't exist, so it was no secret to them.

They were circus toys—there to entertain the public and then allow their master to do whatever he pleased behind private doors.

Minseok didn't want to be added to the list of unfortunate individuals with a traumatic tale to tell—or worse, dead.

"It was a minor scratch that I felt was easy to tend to and didn't need to bother you with, master." Minseok said as timidly as he could, trying to appeal to his master's soft side. The man narrowed his eyes and jerked the boy around to observe his bare back. He took in the lines marked on the human's back. There were four in total—two a mere pink with flesh that was slightly raised, one that had scraped skin and was slightly prickled with dried blood, and the last one being the only one that caused any considerable damage. The claw had sliced right through the flesh, but thankfully, it didn't seem to be very deep.

"Hm..." The master hummed, assessing the injuries for a moment before he turned Minseok back around. "Get it taken care of then. Only use one roll of bandages—those things are damn hard to find and expensive."

Minseok bowed, making sure his 'thank you, master' was well heard by the retreating man.

He had been spared—had managed to avoid being called into the master's tent. When he was sure the man was gone, he breathed a sigh of relief and fell to his knees, his friends rushing to his side.

Just another day in the circus of life or death for humans.

❁♚❁

The clang of Minseok's dagger meeting his opponent's sword rang loud throughout the colosseum. Minseok pressed all his weight forward, pressuring the other man. His opponent retaliated, using his bigger build to shove forward. Minseok used the momentum of the man's push to launch into back flips. His years in the circus had left him fast and agile, even at the age of 21. He jumped and danced around the swings of his opponent's sword like it was nothing. The red haired man was clearly becoming tired, the weight of his shield and weapon slowing him down and straining his muscles. He lunged forward for one more slash that Minseok easily spun away from before he grew tired. He threw his shield to the ground and held his sword's hilt with both hands.

Minseok smiled. Though he was more than happy playing around until the man became exhausted, dealing with him enraged and blind to his own risks would work too.

The man swung wide, Minseok ducking down to a crouch. He felt the blade whisk across his hair as he dodged, but he kept his eyes on the target in front of him. He was confident about his spacial awareness and—for the most part—keeping at least the important bits of his body out of harm's way.

The red haired man swung back, his sword angled downward—just as Minseok predicted. He dashed forward, dagger held above him to slide across the longer blade before it hit the hilt guard. Minseok pushed the sword aside, effectively throwing the other off balance in the process.

The cacophony of loud cheers resounded throughout the colosseum as the first drop of blood was spilled. Minseok's dagger had cut right across his opponent's nose, slashing all the way to the right and rendering the man's eye useless. His cry mixed with the blood-lust from the crowd. He pressed his palm against the wound, blood dripping down to his chin. Minseok stood up straight, his chest puffed and shoulders squared to flaunt his confidence and hopefully intimidate the other.

"Resign." He warned simply. The red-haired man growled, taking Minseok's words as a threat—a taunt.

He dashed forward with a shout, anger marred on his face. He threw his sword around blindly, his aim off due to losing one side of his vision. Minseok sidestepped the attack, but stumbled back when the man didn't stop, instead changing directions and using his whole body to tackle into Minseok. Up close, he could see Minseok was quite smaller than him and—to Minseok's observation—it seemed to tick him off.

"Like I'd bend down for a bitch like you!" His opponent cried, grappling to get a hold of Minseok's shirt. Without blinking an eye, Minseok swiped his blade up quick and fast so the man couldn't react. This time, he cut across the man's palm and took a finger and a half with him when the dagger sliced through them cleanly.

The man howled in pain, instinctively dropping his sword to clutch at his hand. Minseok backed away and flicked the blade of his dagger clean, the blood splattering messily on the ground.

"Last chance; resign. I don't want to kill you—I don't like killing other humans." Minseok stated. The red haired man looked at him, a glimmer of understanding in his gaze, but it was gone as soon as it appeared—replaced with anger and pain instead.

"If I resign..." The man began, his teeth clenching. Minseok didn't need him to finish.

"Your master will kill you, right?" He asked. The man's silence was all the answer he needed. "I don't care—then die by the hands of your master. I don't want to have to do it."

"Then YOU resign!" The man spat. Minseok sighed and shifted his stance, clearly annoyed.

"I clearly won, so why should I? Plus, if I lose, I'm that much further away from finally being free." He complained.

"What?" His opponent began, but Minseok was on him in moments. He grabbed the man's bright red locks and yanked his head up, dagger against his throat.

"Resign. Now. Or die painfully and slowly by my hand. You have a better chance living by resigning and begging your master to spare your life than staying within these colosseum walls. So I'll say this again. Resign." Minseok said quietly, making sure he made his point very clear.

The other's bottom lip quivered, hesitating to throw the match but not wanting to lose his life either. Minseok tightened his grip and dug the knife into his neck, the sharp edge quickly drawing blood.

"I—I resign! I resign the match!"

The audience was a mixture of cheers and boos. There was celebration among the higher beings that won their betting ticket—lament among those that calculated the odds wrong—and rage among those that had expected more blood.

But that's how it always was with Minseok's matches, if he could help it. He never killed anyone.

He breathed in deep one more time, taking in the view of the sky above him before he was sent back inside. His gaze trailed, falling upon the familiar booth where a familiar mask stood.

They were clapping—their masked face showing no expression. They seemed pleased, but Minseok could never tell.

He scoffed instead, dropped his dagger, and retreated to the barred doors that led to the colosseum barracks underground, the shrill siren signifying Minseok's victory prompting the exits to open. In a few moments, the next contestants of their society's sick game would begin their round, but it mattered little to Minseok. He only had one thing in mind after all.

Win—become the top warrior in the colosseum—and escape this hellhole.

Just as he was promised.

❁♚❁

Minseok had heard stories—that humans of the past were fragile—that their reliance on technology had crippled their resilience and made them weak. Of course, that dependence on their creations had been their movement to evolution. Now, they were known as higher beings, because associating with anything remotely _human_ was disgraceful. They were artificially enhanced, empowered, and changed. Babies were born and immediately modified to however their parents saw fit, their parts changing again and again throughout the rest of its life. Sometimes they came out with machines already running through their small bodies, poked and prodded at with needles and devices since they were merely an egg. It only took a few months for blood to be replaced with something more artificially sustaining, for limbs to be cut only to have something much more solid, strong, and dexterous rebuilt.

The ones left behind were people like Minseok, and whoever birthed him, and whoever came before those people. Minseok had grown up hearing all sorts of reasons for the divide—money, genetic superiority, war, computer-generated random selection—the list was endless.

It made him wonder just how weak they were in the past to want to escape from the fragility of it all.

The thoughts had crossed his mind during moments of his performances. He thought about it as he swung fearlessly from the grips of his friend meters above the ground. His partner clung to the metal trapeze drone that flew them all across the circus pit by the mere hook of their ankle, their other leg free and bent at a perfect 90 degree angle. They swung Minseok up, the boy feeling the air around him as he flipped and twirled.

He was caught just before he could fall—of course he was. A fall from a height like the one he was at would surely break his legs or more and leave him in a world of hurt

At least, that was what the higher beings believed. Old knowledge suggested that dropping to land on a hard surface for an average, healthy human couldn't exceed ten meters without sustaining some kind of severe injury—assuming they didn't land on their head first. Of course, this included a variety of possibilities and injuries, and none of them really concrete. There were too many other variables that could be accounted for various situations, but it could all be summed up into one phrase.

Humans are fragile.

Despite this being the common belief, in Minseok's experience, he could easily land from a drop of ten meters without any problems. Not that it had been purposeful fall—accidents were prone to happen during practice after all, and not all of his falls were gracefully landed. Minseok wondered if he was just lucky, or if there was something else at play.

Minseok was tossed up into the air again, his light and lean body catching the wind and giving him the appearance that he was floating. He stayed suspended high in the air for seconds that felt like an eternity to the captivated audience before he felt himself begin to fall.

He twisted, forcibly maneuvering himself in the air to a flip, where the next trapeze partner caught him by his feet at a much lower height. He reached down, a soft, practiced smile on his face that was caked in makeup and other decorations as he touched hands with curious higher beings—most of them children. Outside of the circus, they were seen as dirty mongrels—a species of ignorant lessers—but in here, humans were a wonder to behold.

The trapeze drone flew them above the audience, Minseok still hanging upside down as the viewers touched his soft hand or trailed curious fingers over his glittering arm.

Minseok's eye caught the notice of one individual donned in a smooth, featureless mask that covered their entire face, lacking even the usual slits for the eyes. While it wasn't too unusual to see masks on richer higher beings, usually only very important people—government officials and the like—wore the kind this person had. To see one here, at the circus, was a strange thing in of itself.

He reached out—knowing his master would prefer for him to show extra service to those who clearly had money—and traced a gentle finger down the side of the man's plain white mask as he slowly flew by. It wasn't a strong enough press to remove the accessory, but it was enough to make Minseok's direct attention towards the stranger apparent.

The boy smiled wide, eyes crescenting and lighting up. He gave a shy wave as he flew away, deciding to play up his charms in hopes that it would work in his favor.

The masked man seemed to be staring intently at Minseok by the end of the act, if the direction of his head meant anything, so he assumed he was successful.

"Watch as our incredible ace escapes the clutches of a raging tiger through our fire obstacle!" The ringmaster shouted.

Another day, another deadly act. Minseok dutifully did as he was instructed, jumping through fire and narrowly dodging the lunges of one of their many starving animals. Rather than fear—after all these years—Minseok felt more pity for them.

The fire was unbearable though and in no time Minseok was sweating. It was a simple act though—lead the beast around the obstacle course, stay out of its way, and avoid the randomly timed burst of flames at the same time. Eventually, he would lead the tiger to its death by narrowly avoiding a strong blaze that would instead burn the beast.

It was simple in theory, but when put into practice, it took quite a toll on the teen.

When the pit was finally cleared of the fire—the crisped tiger having been dropped to below the stage—Minseok was struggling not to wheeze. The smoke felt like it had burned his lungs and throat, and his skin was practically pink from being so close to exposed heat. He was panting and sweating, but he plastered on a bright, triumphant smile on his face as his audience cheered. The rest of the troupe pranced out onto the stage. Minseok noticed two bodies missing.

His master would not be pleased once the show was over. He swallowed back the tears and tried not to think too hard about what could have possibly happened during their acts.

Minseok shivered, feeling the hard stare of someone's gaze on him. He quickly glanced at his master, wondering if he had somehow done something wrong and had displeased him—but the man wasn't looking at him. He searched elsewhere, wondering where the source of his discomfort was, when his eyes fell upon that unnerving mask again. With no features, it made Minseok even more uncomfortable how intent the man was following his movements. Even as Minseok crossed the stage to leave, the masked head turned ever so subtly, following him.

While attention like this—especially from someone with clear influence—would otherwise make Minseok happy, the mask's persistent stare really unsettled him instead.

He turned away abruptly, breaking the strange eye-contact he had with the stranger, before his smile could falter.

He had to keep up appearances. Minseok couldn't let his master down.

The show finished without a hitch, the crowd of higher beings filing out of the tent while the performers retreated. Behind the lights, as expected, the circus master was furious.

"Two casualties! _Two_ !" He yelled as he slammed his hat on the ground. "Didn't we practice until your mouths bled to perfect our acts? So you mongrels wouldn't have to die _in front_ of everyone!?"

Minseok and the others kept their eyes downturned. There was nothing they could say.

"To think I'll have to spend my precious funds just to find replacements. Not to mention the time it's going to take to train them." The master continued to gripe on, the coolants on his system working overtime to keep him from overheating. He swiped a hand over his perpetually gelled-back hair—fake fibers clearly on the lower end as far as quality was concerned—and took a deep breath.

The rest of the troupe watched him in silence, waiting for his next move, waiting for what he was going to say—prepared to run from physical wrath if it came down to it.

"It's fine." The master said—to the surprise of everyone. "This is fine. I can deal with this minor setback. It's nothing compared to the potential traffic I'm going to get with my new attraction."

The man seemed to be talking mostly to himself, his surroundings fading away has he continued to mumble numbers and statistics. A few of the performers took this opportunity to walk away, beginning the process of closing down and cleaning. Minseok lingered, confused as to what madness his master might've befallen. He eventually moved to walk away, but a firm, cold grip on his forearm pulled him back.

"Minseok—my lovely bird—my little golden egg," His master began, stepping forward to brush his rough knuckles over the boy's cheekbone. Minseok flinched and jerked back violently, his eyes wide with shock and horror. It wasn't the first time the circus master had referred to him in such a way, but the disturbingly intimate touch was definitely not a common occurrence.

At seeing his human's retreating form, the higher being took another step forward, tugging Minseok in place forcefully while he tried to shush the teen reassuringly.

"Sweet thing—the only duckling that hasn't failed me," He cooed. The more he spoke, the more the hairs on Minseok's arms and neck stood in alarm. "You're the only one I can trust. Don't fail me—don't even think about it."

His grip tightened. The tone of his voice remained the same, but the threat in his next words was apparent all the same.

"If you ever try anything funny like your little girlfriend did all those years ago, I'll break those pretty little legs of yours and make you earn your keep as an exotic sex freak. You don't need legs to work what's between them."

Minseok nodded in understanding, trembling in his master's hold. He was too afraid to say anything. The man smiled though, seemingly appeased.

"As long as you're alive, I won't have any problems." The master said. He released his hold on the boy, but his body language suggested he was far from done with the conversation, so Minseok didn't move. "I have plans for our establishment. Minseok—I'll be having you get them situated and on schedule with everything. You can do that for me, can't you?"

"Yes master." Minseok answered immediately, his voice shaking. His master's touch returned, cold fingers running down his toned arms. Any other day, Minseok could brush it off as his master's normal praising and pride in his best performer—but today it felt... wrong.

"Of course you can—you do everything I ask for so well." The man complimented. His hands ran back up Minseok's arms to rest on his shoulders. "Even though you're human, you grew up so well."

Minseok so desperately wanted to pull away. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to get away—to run as far as he could from the dangerous machine-hybrid in front of him. His brain was swirling with a conflict of emotions, the forefront one being:

He was no longer a small child. He was no longer safe.

"Even though you're human, I think I can reward you for all the hard work you've done for me... right?" The master said in a sickly sweet tone as he squeezed Minseok's shoulders over and over again. The boy had long gone pale, eyes unseeing as his mind whirled with any possibility or excuse he could use to escape from this uncomfortable situation.

As his master's property though, he couldn't speak up or silently move away without his intentions and loyalty being questioned and facing repercussions.

How Minseok wished the ground would swallow him whole in that moment.

"Master?" A hesitant voice spoke up, pulling the two of their attentions to the side. "A customer wanted to speak to you..."

A man stepped forward from where he had been behind the other troupe member. It was the white masked man. Even now, his attention seemed to be fixated on Minseok and it made the young boy shift uncomfortably.

"Ah—sir, how may I help you?" The circus masked asked politely, recognizing the man's higher status. The master released his grip on Minseok, the human letting out an unintentional sigh of relief quietly. Finally, the masked man turned away from staring at the performer to meet the other higher being in the room.

"You've trained a fine number of humans," The mask spoke, his voice gravelly and distorted. He reminded Minseok of humans he'd met who had turned to tobacco and nicotine to smoke the stress of their confinement away.

"Thank you, sir." The circus master said happily, a proud smile on his face.

"That being said, I'm here for a proposition," The other higher being continued. "I'm interested in buying one of them for personal reasons. I'm hoping you will be able to cooperate with me."

The master's head lifted in surprise.

"Who were you thinking of, exactly?"

The masked man turned to face Minseok.

"Him."

Minseok stared at the stranger in shock, his master wearing a similar expression. His owner stepped in front of him, arm raised in front of the teen possessively.

"I'm sorry, but it's not for sale." He said coldly.

"I was hoping you and I could negotiate prices before you flat out rejected me—for the good of your business." The mask warned.

"This one _is_ my business. It brings in the most customers and earns the most with its acts and in tips. I'm sorry to displease you sir, but this human is not for sale." His master countered, anger barely contained. He turned to look over his shoulder at the boy. "Go clean up and count stock."

Minseok nodded at the order and quickly scuttled away. He glanced back briefly, goosebumps on his arms to see the strange masked higher being still watching him. He heard one last exchange between the two before he was out of earshot.

"I will return at a later date."

❁♚❁

Minseok walked through the barracks of the colosseum, his stride confident and powerful. The other contestants that were either getting ready or patching up their wounds watched him as he passed. Some looks were longing and of awe—others were sneers and glares of disgust.

What could he say? The colosseum wasn't usually a place for someone like Minseok. In a stadium where strength and brawn were everything, Minseok broke every stereotype. He was small, thin—his muscles were toned rather than swole and built—and prioritized agility rather than brute force. While he did have a certain amount of power behind his fists, it was nowhere along the lines of some of the warriors in the colosseum.

Humans built like Minseok were usually thrown into the fray as a joke—an easy win and easy blood spilled. It was usually a punishment—to be killed by your own kind in brutality—it was no place for the weak.

But Minseok was anything but weak.

He made his way towards the exit, a higher being with a gold mask shaped like vines cradling their face waiting for Minseok at the end of the hall. Unlike most masks, this one showed the higher being’s mouth. Pale, pink lips curved up into a small smile—so perfect and petite looking they seemed to be a doll. Their unnervingly smooth skin that barely creased when they smiled only completed the image.

"Congratulations on your 42nd win." They said in a velvety voice that never failed to calm Minseok's agitated nerves.

"Thanks, but I'm nowhere near the end." Minseok returned with a sigh. His friend raised their hand, signaling to the guards keeping watch via cameras to open the doors.

"Yes, but you're a step closer to your freedom compared to after your 41st win." They pointed out with a small chuckle.

"When you look at it like that, I suppose you're right." The human relented, following his companion down the quiet hall and out of the colosseum. At the end of the tunnel, a hover car lied in wait for them, the engine already started and ready to leave at a moment's notice. Minseok didn't wait for the other and immediately opened the door to the backseat and climbed in, the higher being that had guided him out boarding the front.

Inside, the man with the expressionless white mask was waiting for him, the turn of his head fixated firmly on Minseok and watching his every move. He was wearing his usual black suit—pressed and ironed to crisp perfection while his own posture was prim and proper. One would even say he was prince like.

Minseok scooted closer in his seat, his own eyes never leaving the mask.

"How was it? ... Today's match." Minseok asked, indirectly looking for the higher being's approval. He knew a part of him was like that because he had grown up with the sole purpose to entertain, serve, and satisfy—but those habits had long left his forefront conscience.

Why he really wanted to know was because the masked man hardly ever spoke—rarely even expressed himself through body movement. Minseok never knew if the man was disappointed or satisfied because he never said either or, no matter what the situation was, without prompting.

It worried Minseok. While he was desperately working towards his freedom, he wanted to be sure the master he was serving now was satisfied with his performance.

The masked man reached out, large hand slow and possibly even menacing—but Minseok didn't even flinch. He simply watched, wholly trusting.

This master never has and never would hit or harm him after all.

The man's palm fell over the top of Minseok's head, gloved fingers carding gently through the soft and slightly damp black locks. He rubbed affectionately—his praise obvious.

"Little hummingbird," His voice rasped from behind the mask, nearly sounding like a dead man. "You did splendidly."

Minseok smiled, his cheeks warming happily.

"Thanks, Lu Han."

❁♚❁

It had been a few days since the incident with the masked man's confrontation and his master. While the exchange had bothered Minseok and often crossed his thoughts, he was too busy rehearsing and preparing for the next performance date to think about it too long. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he would see that same, blank mask staring at him even without having features. It haunted him even in his sleep—but that was the extent of it.

It was the day before their scheduled show when Minseok's master pulled him aside. Minseok had been scared at first, but when he realized he wasn't being brought to the man's private tent but rather the animals' den, Minseok felt his shoulders sag in relief.

"I finally got it shipped in—this little beauty is going to skyrocket our business." The android said as he maneuvered around the cages of animals he kept. Some were well-fed and tended to for the sake of keeping them healthy and capable of performing the tricks the circus master required of them. The crates with the other creatures were less fortunate—usually only fed just enough to keep them from starving to death to make them more ravenous when Minseok or any of the other humans had to perform some kind of death-defying act.

They called it 'death-defying', but not everyone survived.

"It came in today, so it's a little uncontrollable—but I'm hoping to train it out of its disobedience. To do that, Minseok, I'm hoping you'll spend a bit of time getting it comfortable and learning a few basics." His master said as he pulled a tarp from a covered cage. What lied inside had Minseok's eyes widening. A gasp built up in his throat that he just barely contained.

At first glance, one would assume it was a human child curled up in a tight ball hiding in a dark corner of their confines, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that there was something jarringly different about them. Minseok saw it flick—a rusty gold tail spotted with brown and black patterns like a leopard, ears of a similar design folded back flat against dark brown hair. Minseok resisted the urge to step forward.

"Master... may I ask you a question?" Minseok began, knowing that talking out of line often angered the master and he didn't want to overstep his boundaries. He looked up to gauge the man's reaction, the master returning the gaze with an inquisitive expression and prompting the boy to continue. "What is that?"

"That, my dear boy, is a human hybrid. Rare and one of a kind. A certain group of researchers recently found it was possible to crossbreed species recently. I managed to get my hands on one through pulling a few strings. It's some kind of reject but—having a damaged one is better than none at all." The circus master explained with a sinister grin.

At the sound of the man's voice, the child inside flinched and whipped its head around, staring at the duo with a wild and scared expression. Minseok felt his master press against his back and push, making the teen stumble forward reluctantly. The higher being seemed to read his hesitation.

"Don't worry—it may bite or scratch, but I doubt it'll be able to do much harm with how small it is. It's a scaredy cat and didn't even raise a hand when I handled it into its new cage." The man said with a chuckle. "I'd like you to spend a bit of time with it before you rest tonight. You can do that for me, can't you?"

"Yes, master." Minseok answered immediately. Without sparing a second, his master opened the cage, shoved the human inside, and locked it shut. Regaining his bearings, Minseok scrambled up to grasp at the reinforced bars, staring at his master in disbelief. The man smiled.

"I'll return for you before lights out." He said and with that, he was gone.

Minseok stared after where his master left, unable to believe he had truly been left alone. After a moment, Minseok risked a glance back. The strange human child was staring at him, though his stance was still guarded, his eyes seemed to be a fraction calmer than before.

If it was human, surely it would be capable of speech—or at least, understanding it.

"Hello?" Minseok called out tentatively. The child didn't move. Unsure of what to do, the teenager glanced side to side, wondering what he was supposed to do in this situation. Well—he had been instructed to acquaintance the hybrid, and Minseok didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he were to fail.

"I'm... Minseok. One of master's many performers in his circus." Minseok explained slowly and softly from where he was still sitting on the other side of the cage. He watched the child's eyes flicker up and down, clearly examining the stranger that had been unceremoniously thrusted into his only safe space in this scary new environment. "Are you... human?"

The child curled up tighter in a ball at the question, and in hindsight, it might have not been the best question to ask. It was very obvious that the kid wasn't normal, even without Minseok inquiring about the validity of the hybrid's humanity.

"Sorry, I'm just..." Minseok tried to save the situation. "I've never... seen a human like you before." Great going. "... What did they do to you?"

Silence fell over the two of them, Minseok's panicked gaze melting into sympathy and pity. He didn't have to be a genius higher being to figure out that whatever they had done to the hybrid wasn't right—it wasn't natural. Minseok couldn't even begin to imagine what the kid had to go through.

"... They... stitched me up." The child suddenly spoke up. Minseok perked at that, having not expected this development.

"Stitched you up?" Minseok asked. The hybrid nodded. "But... master said you were a crossed species. You weren't born this way through some weird... experiment?"

A shake of the head.

"A long time ago... I was taken from my old owner and... there were all these lights. I saw the pictures on the screens. They... used these tiny things to put these ears on me." The child reached up and tugged forlornly at his golden, round, and furry ears atop his head. "At first they didn't move but... I kept going back—to the white room with the bright lights—and then one day... I felt them. They moved with me and... I can feel them when I pull." He reached down to grab at the tail tucked between his legs. "Same with this..."

Minseok's mouth dropped. At least the kid knew how to talk, but the things that came out of his mouth were concerning—awful and invasive. Humans were at the complete mercy of higher beings, but Minseok would have never guessed they'd go as far as frankensteining a creation just because they _could_.

"Oh god..." Minseok muttered, still taken aback by the other's story. "So... the thing about you being a crossbreed of species is...?"

"It's not true." The hybrid shook his head. "The others like me... they weren't born this way either. I don't know why they sold me with this story but—I was told to never say anything or else I'd be killed."

"Then why did you tell me?" Minseok tilted his head. "Aren't you afraid I'll tell the master?"

The child smiled sadly, tears welling up in his large, pillowed eyes.

"I've begun to think that death would be a better alternative than living like a freak for the rest of my life."

Minseok's brows pushed up as his heart squeezed at the other's words. Though it was true their lives weren't the easiest as humans, Minseok found it pitiful that a child as young as the one in front of him could say such heartbreaking things so easily. He placed a hand in front of him—his movements slow and deliberate so as to not startle the other—and scooted forward a fraction.

"I can't even begin to understand what they did to you but... at least here, you have a family. Me and the others won't see you any different. Sure they may not know where to look at first, but in the end, we're all in the same boat together—we're all humans at our core. We'll be here for you, and I'll help you so you'll know how to avoid trouble... So please don't say that you'd rather die. I won't tell the master. I promise." Minseok pleaded, his voice quiet. He watched the other stare at him for a moment before he finally loosened up. The child's arms came down from where they had been tightly wrapped around his legs and lifted his head, letting Minseok get a proper look at him.

Minseok smiled.

"What's your name?"

"... My mom used to call my Jongin."

"Jongin... well, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. As long as you work hard and don't anger the master, you'll be fed well and, for the most part, sleep well." Minseok assured, feeling elated that Jongin was opening up to him.

They spent the rest of the time waiting for the master to come back talking about random things. It was mostly Minseok talking and Jongin listening and nodding, but it was better than nothing. Minseok did his best to fill the other in on the rules of the troupe, what his schedule may be like, and their hours of practice. When the circus master returned, he was more than pleased to see Minseok sitting next to his recent purchase without fear. He immediately unlocked the cage, allowing the teen to step out. His master patted his head approvingly.

"Master, what about him?" Minseok asked, glancing back at the hybrid still inside.

"What about him?" The man parroted disapprovingly.

"Aren't you going to let him out too?"

"Why would I? He's an animal, so he's going to sleep out here with the rest of them." The man said coldly, making Minseok swallow hard.

"But master—he's not entirely like animals. He can talk and think—and he doesn't have fur to keep himself warm." Minseok pleaded, trying not to sound too demanding but still wanting to stand up for Jongin's situation.

"He can talk, can he?" The master mused as he turned back around to stare at the hybrid in the cage. Jongin was staring wide-eyed, gaze flickering back and forth between the master and the human. He seemed too lost to know what to do. Minseok encouraged him with a nod of his head, gesturing for the child to speak up.

"Y-Yes sir, I can." Jongin said hesitantly. The man stared for a moment more before he smiled.

"That's wonderful. You're even better than I expected. Tell me—who was it that taught you how to speak?"

Jongin seemed to panic for a moment, unsure of how to answer. This master was under the impression that he had been born and fostered in a lab as a modified species. He didn't want to risk the possibility of exposing the truth if he said something too out of hand. Jongin wasn't great at lying either, so he didn't know how to reply. He could only stare dumbly.

"He told me his previous owner taught him as an experiment to see if he was capable of cognitive thinking and human speech despite how he was... created." Minseok quickly cut in, staring up at his master to pull his attention away from the clearly distressed hybrid. His master fell for it easily, staring at his human's sincere expression.

"Is that so... interesting. It's a pity for them you were a defect though." The man laughed as he opened the door. "Hurry up and come out." He motioned with his hand.

Timidly, Jongin crawled forward till he could grab the bars of the cage and hopped out. He stumbled a bit on his feet, but Minseok was there and ready to catch him. The much taller teen hugged Jongin close, arms circled protectively around his shoulders as if he was trying to shield him from all harm.

"Take him to the bunker and get him situated. There should be spare sheets somewhere." The circus master said as he walked away, Minseok responding quietly in affirmation to his retreating figure. He looked down at Jongin with a smile.

"Tomorrow is show day, so you'll have time to rest before the master decides what act you do." Minseok said as he led the child away. Jongin nodded, his tail swishing behind him once as he leaned into the other's hold. Minseok's arms were so warm and secure—for the first time in a long time, Jongin felt like he was safe. He followed after the older one wordlessly to the promise of a good night's sleep.

To keep his future act a surprise from anyone attending the circus, Jongin was ordered to stay inside the bunker to avoid being seen. Because of that Minseok didn't get to see him all day, but he supposed it was for the best. He was much too busy with his performance to risk getting distracted.

It seemed that either way though, Minseok would be pulled from his concentration inevitably.

The masked man was back, this time seated much closer to the ring. Minseok tried not to let the expressionless white mask falter his steps, but it was hard to ignore when the man was so blatantly staring at him. Even the master had realized the rude man was back and his face certainly didn't look pleased at the fact. Minseok prayed to all the gods he knew of that the master wouldn't later take his anger out on the animals and performers later.

Minseok smiled as he stood on the back of the largest animal they had in the circus, towering over the audience as ribbons flowed from his arms. He knew to the eyes of others he may seem like a beauty, but all the fabrics and layers of makeup didn't cover up the bruises on his body from practicing to exhaustion and then being punished for his mistakes later. He smiled despite it though, because it was his job. He was meant to stun and dazzle the customers, and if the masked man's incessant stare meant anything, it meant he was doing his task correctly.

At some point during the show, the strange man disappeared. After being such a prominent presence, it was jarring to find the man was not in his seat when Minseok's eyes naturally drew towards that direction. It was sudden, but perhaps it was for the best. While Minseok was curious, it was better to not have that unnerving mask stuck in his thoughts.

He continued on, trying not to blink when one of the performers slipped and got their leg tangled in the silk ribbons they had been dancing from in the air after falling a few inches. They passed it off as a purposeful trick and hung there until they were lowered away while the others kept going. Minseok knew it wasn't going to be good for them later, but what could he do? Nothing he could say or do would change anything. He only had one priority and that priority was to survive.

Minseok was running backstage, getting costumes ready for the next act that he wasn't a part of when he was yanked to the side by his arm. He gasped and stumbled, nearly dropping the clothes in his hands, as he was pulled between stacked crates and boxes. When he looked up at who was wasting his precious time, he froze when he was met with that all too familiar mask.

The man had snuck behind the stage and had been waiting for Minseok to pass. Now the human was alone with the stranger that had tried to buy him from his master—the stranger whose stare was so intent, it gave Minseok the shivers.

When the man saw Minseok wasn't going to scream or fight, he stood straighter, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

"If," He began, his raspy and distorted voice grating on Minseok's ears. "You ever want to escape and lead a better life—to be independent and free, either come with me or go to this location and ask for the Mounted Mask." The man said slowly and quietly as he procured a small card from his pocket and placed it in Minseok's hands. The human stared at the card before looking back up at the stranger with a squint.

"Free?" He questioned.

"Yes—freedom. Of course, it comes with a small catch but based on my observations, it would be no problem for you." The mask admitted honestly, which came as a surprise to Minseok.

"Freedom for a human? In this day and age? Unheard of." Minseok dissuaded, not convinced but he definitely couldn't help the small flicker of hope in his chest at the idea of belonging to his own self rather than someone else.

"I don't have time to explain the details for obvious reasons, but whether you believe me or not is entirely your choice." The mask shrugged off the teen's skepticism. Being told that it was his

choice though—that had Minseok's eyes widening. His wonder didn't go unnoticed by the other. "One thing I promise you is I don't lie. I have my own reasons for choosing you and offering you a way to get you out of this city that I can't tell you at this time, but I can assure you a place where humans can be independent certainly exists and I'm willing to help you get there so long as you help me."

The man released Minseok's arm, having said all he wanted to, but the teen didn't run. Instead, Minseok turned his body to fully face the other directly.

"Who are you, exactly?" He couldn't help but ask, despite the hundreds of other thoughts running through his mind. The man seemed hesitant to answer, though his stance didn't change to show any nervousness or uncertainty. He was almost too well poised. If it wasn't for the mask's sudden silence, Minseok would've never guessed that he could be anxious about something.

"I'm just like the other higher beings around you—just caught up in a little something and in need of my own tools and allies." The man finally explained. The distant sound of the crowd's cheers and roars brought them back to reality—reminding them exactly where they were and how much time they had already wasted. The masked man raised his hands and gently cupped the sides of Minseok's head, shocking the teen.

"Stay strong. Remember—if you ever feel the need to run, come to me." He said, gloved thumbs rubbing soothingly over Minseok's cheeks before he was stepping away and disappearing behind the stacks of boxes and stock. Minseok stared after where the man had left before he rubbed violently at his cheeks, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation on his cheeks from the stranger's touch. It reminded him of the way his master would sometimes touch him and he hated it.

He gathered the costumes higher in his hold and rushed off towards the waiting performers, the card he'd been given tucked away in the pocket of his pants.

The man had returned to his spot by the final act of the show, featureless gaze forever staring as the performers ended the circus in grandiose. There were cheers, clapping, and Minseok bowed with a beaming smile that masked his sweat matted forehead and the exhausted tremble of his limbs.

His work was far from over once the guests had left though. Minseok along with the others were tasked with clean up, and if time remained, they had to practice. This time, Minseok's job was taking care of Jongin and preparing him for tomorrow's performance. Thankfully, he wouldn't be doing much—just a few poses here and there and letting the audience touch him—but the circus master apparently had much more planned for the boy in the future, and he wanted Minseok to start training him immediately.

The teen did as he was told, leading the little hybrid to the largest ring in their many tents and buildings to give them the optimal space. Jongin, while looking around nervously—followed without a word. Despite his cautious steps, he seemed rather happy that Minseok was the one teaching him and the one he would be spending time with. Minseok turned to face the younger when he was a good few steps ahead, his abrupt movement making Jongin stumble to a stop more out of surprise than actual fear.

"Jongin, the master said he wants you trained." Minseok said as he rubbed his wrists guiltily, staring at the welts and calluses on his hands to avoid looking at the small boy.

"Oh, okay." The hybrid acknowledged with a nod, the spotted ears atop his head twitching. "What... what will I be training to do?"

Minseok looked up, his expression pitiful.

"Jongin... no matter what we do, it's okay to cry, shout, and say it hurts." He began. He watched Jongin's ears flatten against his head at the foreboding words. "But no matter what, don't give up—otherwise you'll get extremely hurt, or die."

"What... what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry... the master wants you to eventually fight the animals we have... a sort of deathmatch showcase. Because you are what you are, he'll at least try to keep you alive because he would be furious if you happened to die before he could make any profit off of something as rare as you, but you'll wish you were dead if you fail a performance and embarrass him in front of the audience." Minseok explained. "So master told me to train you—to make sure you're strong enough to kill an enraged animal for entertainment without something unexpected happening."

"What!?" Jongin grabbed his tail in a death grip. "B-But I'm not—I'm—"

"A regular human—yes, I know, but the master doesn't. He thinks you have some kind of underlying animal instincts that will make you strong, but you and I both know that's unlikely. So we have to train like your life depends on it—because it does."

Silence fell over the pair, the shocked child staring at Minseok like he had just grown two heads. Minseok tried to give him his most reassuring smile, though he couldn’t quite hide his apologetic expression.

"It'll hurt, but I'm going to make sure you stay alive. Don't let the pain stop you Jongin—attack me with everything you have. Try to kill me—you won't win or get any stronger if you don't." Minseok goaded as he widened his stance and lifted his arms, palms open as if he were ready to catch a charging bull.

Jongin, after a moment, nodded and released his tail. He lowered his posture to be ready to lunge.

He waited and waited, then suddenly dashed forward. He felt his fingernails dig briefly into skin before he was suddenly flying forward, his face smashing into the dirt. He lifted his body up as soon as he felt Minseok loosen his grip, turning to make another attack, when he felt a fist harder than anything Jongin has ever touched in his life collide into his jaw that sent him reeling back.

His vision went black before he even touched the ground.

❁♚❁

It had been about three years since Minseok had last seen the circus he used to be at. It had taken time for Minseok to believe the words the strange, masked man had told him—not to mention that with the addition of Jongin, Minseok had been even less inclined to leave. After all if he did, who would then look over the hybrid child?

Minseok's good conscience wouldn't allow him to abandon Jongin when he was unable to defend himself.

But he'd left eventually, and just as the mask had promised, Minseok was really taken away from the city he'd gotten used to. He was brought elsewhere far away—given a new beginning.

"Your 43rd match is scheduled for 15 days from now." The masked man—Lu Han, Minseok had later learned his name—informed. Minseok leaned back against his seat in the car.

"That's closer than before." He noted out loud. He watched the movements of the man next to him carefully, paying acute attention to every little detail he could catch—the slight turn of his head, the small twitch of his fingers—the masked man was still an anomaly to Minseok. He couldn't help but feel curiosity towards the higher being that never broke facade—never allowed himself to appear as anything but perfect.

Through his three years of vigilant observation, Minseok felt he was beginning to pick up on the minute nuances of Lu Han. The mask was now facing the window, the hands on Lu Han's lap adjusting as if the position they had been in previously was no longer comfortable. If Minseok were to assume, it seemed Lu Han wasn't pleased about how near Minseok's next fight was compared to all the previous dates.

Lu Han never lied though, so if Minseok really wanted to know what the higher being was thinking, he need only ask.

"Is that a bad thing?" Minseok prompted. Lu Han didn't look at him.

"Just inconvenient." Lu Han stated bluntly. "Tian Yu is beginning to feel desperate since none of his humans have won even once against you—that much is obvious."

Minseok nodded as he listened to the other talk, the scratchiness of Lu Han's voice having grown on Minseok's ears. Minseok used to wonder what must have happened to Lu Han for his vocal cords to be damaged that badly to the point he couldn't repair it. Or perhaps he didn't care to fix it, like most higher beings would. Lu Han was an odd one, after all.

"There are a lot of strong humans in the world, but it would be hard to find one like me if you don't know where to look." Minseok said as-a-matter-of-factly. This made Lu Han turn to look at him. Minseok simply smiled. "Are you going to tell me to not be too conceited?"

The brief moment of silence after his question made Minseok's chest tickle with amusement.

"I'd considered it." Lu Han answered truthfully. Minseok let out a short laugh, exhaling through his nose.

"Any other master probably would have scolded me to hell and back—or worse—if I talked to them the way you let me speak with you." Minseok mused.

"Yes, but I'm not your master." Lu Han refuted.

The tingling in Minseok's chest swelled. He grabbed onto the soft, cushioned leather of his car seat in a tight grip to control himself.

"Why?" He asked. In the time he'd been with Lu Han, it had been abundantly clear that Lu Han wasn't interested in keeping humans like the other higher beings. It was already unusual that he'd offer a human freedom—Minseok knew the masked man was abnormal, but he'd yet to address it. Now, he couldn't keep the burning curiosity down.

"You could do literally anything you pleased with any human. You're a higher being, you have money, and with even a _hint_ of freedom, any human would kneel and lick the bottom of your shoes. Why don't you demand these kinds of things?" Minseok pressed. He wanted to know— _needed_ to know. There was no reason for Lu Han to be as kind as he was—not when he could obtain anything he could touch with his fingertips.

"I wasn't aware that you wanted to lick my heels so much. Would you prefer it if I told you to do that?" Lu Han asked innocently.

Minseok flushed in embarrassment.

"That's not what I meant." He countered.

"My question still stands." Lu Han's cracked voice lowered a notch. He sounded inhuman. "Would you prefer it if I told you to kneel and lick my shoes?"

"Well—no..."

"Then it's obvious, is it not? I don't ask because you wouldn't like it. Also I don't particularly have a need for a shoe cleaner, but that's besides the point." Lu Han said like it was the most apparent reason in the world. While it would seem to be common sense—it wasn't. Not in this world.

"But why do you care what humans want or don't want?" He clarified. "You don't need to—so why?"

"Aren't we all originally humans at our core?" Lu Han said after a raspy, tired sigh.

Minseok felt his entire body clench painfully.

"Yes, but higher beings decided we weren't the same after you all became machines."

"Are you resentful?"

"... Yes."

"I'm sorry. I cannot fix what has already been done. I can only change my own actions. All I can say as an explanation for my different mindset is that the longer I live, the clearer the kind of society I participate in becomes. I've decided I don't agree with it, so I'm doing what I can to help humans instead."

"Do you really think you're making a difference by picking and choosing who you help? Bringing a few handfuls of humans to a land where they're free from higher beings still leaves behind thousands of others in misery." Minseok nearly spat, his tone bitter. Lu Han's head tilted ever so slightly.

"You're right, but I can't save everyone." Lu Han said calmly, unbothered by Minseok's harsh words. It was a very straightforward response, and it cut sharply into Minseok's anger.

"I'm sorry... I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I understand that one person can't save an entire population of humans." Minseok relented. He turned to look out the window, not wanting to participate in the conversation he'd started anymore. Though he said he understood, it still made him upset that Lu Han wasn't doing more—couldn't do more.

That there weren't more higher beings like Lu Han trying to change their shitty world.

"I'm hoping," Lu Han began. Minseok didn't turn. "That the little things done today will add up in the future."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence until they arrived back to where Minseok had found to call his home for the past year. It was a nice living quarter—big and modern; appropriate for someone who seemed to hold an important position in the city like Lu Han.

On days when he wasn't at the colosseum, Minseok spent his time in the living space Lu Han provided him. There weren't many caretakers that came around the house, so Minseok was used to being more or less alone.

He'd stretch, train, and listen to music that he didn't know existed. He was working on teaching himself to read thanks to his unrestrained access to the datapool of technology that Lu Han couldn't care less if he used or not.

It was strange how quickly he'd been able to adapt to the peace. Compared to when he served his previous master at the circus, Minseok was never hit. He was never demanded to keep a training schedule. He never had to entertain strangers. He never had to worry about not eating.

He was suddenly saturated in privilege—and Minseok soaked as much of it in as he could. He hadn't lost a match in the colosseum yet, and he figured if he kept it that way, Lu Han would still see worth in keeping him and Minseok would be able to keep living in this new environment.

Though Lu Han liked to act like an ally of humanity, Minseok didn't want to entirely put his full faith in the higher being. Lu Han had approached Minseok because he had needed him. If that was no longer the case, it was possible that everything would be stripped from the human. 

That wasn't to say Minseok didn't trust Lu Han—he did. He just wasn't allowing himself to fall into a sense of security in case it was all lost in a snap of fingers.

It would hurt less if Minseok was always prepared instead.

"Was there anything you were wanting to eat?" The higher being with the golden vines mask asked when they entered the premise. His name was Buoxian. All Minseok really new about him was that he worked under Lu Han, always guided Minseok to the colosseum and picked him up after, and that he had beauty that was unnervingly unreal. Minseok had been stunned when Lu Han had introduced them to each other for the first time. He'd never known that _anyone_ —higher being or human—could look as porcelain and perfect as Buoxian did and be real. Had technology really advanced far enough to create ethereal entities that were only found in stories? Minseok wasn't sure, but if it had, Buoxian was proof of that.

Another thing Minseok discovered about Buoxian recently was that he was very much attached to Lu Han, and not in an employer-employee fashion, but rather a worshipper and a God. It was a little disconcerting at times how far back Buoxian would bend for Lu Han, figuratively speaking. Minseok had no doubt in his mind he would bend in a literal sense if asked to—but Lu Han didn't seem to be interested.

"I don't have anything specific in mind." Minseok answered. He and Buoxian both turned to stare at Lu Han, who had been fiddling with the holographic projection from the device on his wrist. The mask turned to look at them after a pause when he realized they were waiting for his answer.

"I'm not hungry. Eat without me." Lu Han said and he began heading upstairs.

"Should I bring food to your room later?" Buoxian offered.

"No." Was Lu Han's blunt answer before he was gone. undeterred, Buoxian turned to Minseok with a smile.

"I'll think of something for dinner."

Minseok watched the other man, wondering if he ever got dejected by Lu Han's indifference. He never let it show if it did, and Minseok was torn between feeling pity and admiration for Buoxian's persistent attentiveness for the ever unmoving wall that was Lu Han. As far as Minseok knew, Buoxian didn't even know the face that lied under the blank, white mask that the quiet man donned. Minseok definitely didn't, but he figured that if the higher being were to show it to anyone, it'd be to Buoxian.

Yet despite being the closest one to him, Buoxian didn't really know who Lu Han was exactly. He knew his job and what he did, but not the kind of person he was on the inside.

Despite this, Buoxian still followed every infrequent beck and call to Lu Han like an obedient dog. There was history between them, apparently, but Buoxian had just smiled sweetly when Minseok had inquired about the details and said it was a secret. His twinkling eyes that held the man's underlying adoration for someone that may or may not even know his feelings exist was enough to deter Minseok away. He wasn't interested in sappy love stories about falling into an unrequited love.

Minseok left Buoxian alone in the main room of the building while he wandered to his own sleeping space. It had been so long since he'd left behind the world he'd known. He wondered what everyone was doing. He'd left behind the people he used to call family so easily, thinking about it usually made him feel awful. He had gotten mad at Lu Han for not doing more to save other humans, but in reality, he had no right to say that.

When he was given the opportunity, all he could think about was himself. Minseok was selfish, and it was hypocritical of him to berate the man who had offered him a way out when he hadn't thought to extend that chance to anyone else.

With those thoughts, every once in a while, Minseok would look up on how the circus was doing. Lu Han had provided him a thin tablet that allowed Minseok to virtually search for anything in the world as long as data on it existed in the network. He used that to get updates on his previous owner and his establishment. The circus hadn't been doing so well the first few months after Minseok had abruptly ran away, but it was to be expected. Minseok was considered their top performer, and no human would ever think to run away from their master. It was unheard of—impossible to. There were so many ways that a higher being could track a human down that had no connections to anywhere, anything, or anyone.

But Minseok had help from Lu Han, and because of that, Minseok's old master didn't have a chance once his little golden egg had slipped away into the dark shadows of the city.

No sane patron would want to support an establishment that couldn't manage its own properties, so the circus had seen a considerable drop in paying customers.

It took a bit, but someone took his place eventually.

"Jongin..." Minseok mumbled sadly as a news article of the circus's newest top-selling attraction came up. He'd grown up considerably over the years. He'd only been 12 years old when Minseok first met him—meek and timid and scared of everything. Now he'd blossomed into a practiced performer, his body lean and sculpted for a teenager at the age of 17. Minseok had watched him grow for a majority of the time they'd spent together, but his years of absence had really made him miss the boy's growth spurt.

His gaze was fierce in the picture, brown eyes lit up by the spotlights to make it look like they were glowing caramel gold. Jongin had never been good at doing his own makeup, so it was immediately obvious to Minseok that someone had done it for him when he noticed how perfectly shaded his eyes and contours were.

The headline highlighted the rarity of Jongin's features—a one-of-his-kind crossbreed. Everyone wanted to see the leopard hybrid child, Minseok's black mark of betrayal long forgotten on the circus's reputation.

Jongin wasn't smiling for the photo.

He wondered if Jongin has smiled at all since Minseok left him behind.

"Training again?" Lu Han commented when he found Minseok later on deep into the evening hours stretched out over the floor of an empty, spacious room that Lu Han had given to the human to use as he pleased. Minseok lifted himself up from where he had been lying stomach-down on the ground, his legs spread to the sides in a straight line. He shook his head.

"Just. Stretching." He answered robotically. He had been wallowing in guilt while he went through a stretch routine he used to follow back when he was a performer on autopilot. It worked to keep his body flexible and muscles from cramping after training, but it also gave him time to think in silence while also doing something productive. "Have you been working all this time?"

"For the most part, yes." Lu Han answered. His voice sounded deeper and more disused than usual. It made him think back on Buoxian and his comment on how Lu Han never took off his mask for anyone or anything. It had been three years since he'd met Lu Han—it should be fine for him to ask about it now, right?

"Lu Han," Minseok called before the man could continue on his way and leave. Lu Han didn't say anything. He simply stared at Minseok from behind that smooth mask expectantly. "Why do you never take off your mask?"

"I have no reason to." Lu Han answered easily.

"Are you sure it's not because you're horribly disfigured underneath and you don't want to scare anyone?" Minseok joked with a small smile. Lu Han crossed his arms, the pose making Minseok's eyes go wide. He'd never seen the man stand in such a relaxed way before—not even in his own home.

"And what if that's the case?"

Was the man joking with Minseok? His voice tone was the same as always—Minseok couldn't tell—but then what about the way he was standing? Was he trying to play along?

"No way. You're a higher being—you would have the money to fix any disfiguration." Minseok said as he slowly stood up, his hips aching a bit from being in a spread position for so long.

"Money doesn't buy everything, you do know that, right?" Lu Han retorted.

"Yes, but it can fix anything superficial. Even I know that." Minseok insisted. He stared at Lu Han—letting a silence that was a common occurrence when interacting with the masked man fall over them. Even though neither of them said anything, it was obvious that the conversation wasn't over yet. Minseok wasn't going to let it end that easily, and they both knew that.

"... Can you take it off?" Minseok asked quietly. He couldn't hold back the question any longer.

"Take what off?" Lu Han asked. Minseok knew for sure now. The man was teasing him.

"Your mask of course, what else?"

"I can. I do every night." Lu Han skirted around the main point.

"You know what I meant!" Minseok let out a frustrated sound, frowning, but far from upset. Lu Han uncrossed his arms, standing straight and proper like he so often does. Minseok felt his confidence shrinking at the suddenly more guarded stance. He wondered if he stepped over a line he wasn't supposed to.

"I don't. Why don't you clarify what you want from me?"

"I... I want you to take off your mask now."

"And why do you want me to do that?"

"Because I'm curious."

Minseok bit his lip as he unabashedly admitted his intentions. If Lu Han didn't take off the mask for anyone, there was no way he'd want to do it for Minseok, but he still had to ask.

Lu Han seemed to consider the younger's request. Minseok fidgeted as he waited and swallowed nervously.

"Alright." Lu Han finally agreed. Minseok hadn't even registered that Lu Han had easily relented to his demand yet when Lu Han's hand came up to grab the front of his mask. Minseok's jaw dropped as he watched in a frozen stupor, unable to believe what was happening.

A small sound like pressured air releasing filled the room and then Lu Han began lifting the mask.

Minseok waited with bated breath, shock rendering his lungs useless.

A chin came into view.

Then a mouth.

The pale lips spread up into a small, amused smile as the mask came to a stop just below the nose.

Minseok felt his stomach twist in knots.

"Does this satisfy your curiosity?" Lu Han suddenly spoke.

Shivers zapped down Minseok's spine as the sound of Lu Han's voice filled his ears. It melted through the quiet between them, and Minseok suddenly didn't know the man in front of him.

His voice was soft and gentle. Minseok would even associate it to honey.

A delicacy he's never experienced before.


End file.
